The 21st edition of the "Korean amateur world championship" once again looks very promising. This time, Incheon was chosen as the host city, which is an advantage especially for transportation. The rich program will once again be complemented by a junior category for players under 15. Last year's national championship turned out so favorably for the Dach family that father and son both became Czech representatives for this year's Korea Prime Minister Cup. Zbyněk (4-dan) will not be among the biggest favorites in the main category, but his tenacious style and enormous experience will certainly give even much bigger names a hard time. The 14-year-old Bártík (5-dan) will be, if not a contender for the podium among the juniors, then certainly one of the main candidates for the highest placement among Western players. Another advantage for our players should be the fact that they have already been in Korea for two weeks training at the PBA school, so there is no risk of jet lag. Seven rounds will be played in both categories this year, so we definitely have plenty to look forward to. Among other things, that includes reports from Zbyněk Dach himself, whose storytelling always draws readers into the scene as if they were there themselves. Keep your fingers crossed for ours! Interim results Broadcasts Sunday, November 8 Round 1: (2:00) Z. Dach – Suhas Sontakki 5-kyu (India) B. Dach – Barlas Mukanov 5-kyu (Kazakhstan) Round 2: (7:00) Z. Dach – Florent Labouret 6-dan (France) B. Dach – Li Guoyi 7-dan (China) Monday, 9 Nov. Round 3: (2:00) Z. Dach – Bibigul Arzybaeva 10-kyu (Kyrgyzstan) B. Dach – Tran Hai Dang Nguyen 2-dan (Vietnam) Round 4: (7:00) Z. Dach – Eric Yoder 6-dan (USA) B. Dach – Oliver Skocic 3-dan (Croatia) Wednesday, 11/11 Round 5: (2:00) Round 6: (7:00) Thursday, 11/12 Round 7: (2:00) Report by Zbyněk DAY 1 The trip from Seoul's Gangnam, where we live and where Bártík goes to Go school (I'll write about that in another article), to modern Incheon was supposed to take just under an hour by taxi, but thanks to heavy traffic it took three. Give me Prague or Brno any day. Fortunately, everything goes smoothly upon arrival, which we appreciate; I've never experienced anything so fast. Four organizers hand us off to one another as if on a conveyor belt. "Čeko? Here's your uniform, now move along." "Sign here." "Tomorrow morning, line up at 9:15 here." "Here is the key to your room." They were so efficient and likable that I couldn't help myself and asked a few follow-up questions (what floor breakfast is on, whether I still needed to go to the front desk with my documents, and so on), just so the whole thing would take at least a minute. What they call the "uniform" is not a T-shirt, as I had assumed, but a fairly comfortable zip-up hoodie jacket with large pockets and a Czech flag on the chest. We check into a nice, clean room, and with the help of Google Translate we manage to figure out the overheated floor heating, the air conditioning set to blow desert air at 28 °C (82 °F), and the mysterious flush control on the toilet. Buttons translated as "massage elsewhere" or "nozzle cleaning" are ones I really don't dare to press while sitting on the toilet. In the end everything works out, and we head off to the nearest Korean restaurant for dinner. In the little shop by the hotel we also run into the Malaysian team, most of whom we remember from last year's Go camp in Korea or the Silk Road tournament in China. We exchange a few friendly words, and then we hurry off to bed. DAY 2 We get up in the morning feeling fine, with no jet lag; we're already used to Korean time. The breakfasts aren't as lavish as at tournaments in China, but they're still well above standard. Everything is clearly laid out and easy to get to, everything gets restocked, and nothing is ever missing. The only chore is finding the coffee machine somewhere down a hallway around the corner. Bártík is conservative about breakfast, while I'm boldly adventurous, to the point of regret: spicy chicken wings on an empty stomach and some mysterious kimchi with a hint of vomit have me worried that I might need a "nozzle cleaning" after all. Breakfast is on the twelfth floor and the hotel has only two elevators. Getting to our seventh floor and then back down takes quite a while, but luckily we've also discovered the stairs. Everyone is then herded in an organized fashion onto one of five buses, and we are driven to a park that we are supposed to admire. Because of traffic jams we fall behind schedule, so we have to head back in forty minutes. Just enough time for a walk along the river and back. We run into Park Youn-woon (박윤운), also known as Baduk Doctor, whom many of you know from the Vernířovice Go camp. We know quite a few of the other players, but even more we don't, so we don't hesitate and start making new friends. Then they take us to a so-called orientation, where they explain the rules, which floor the restrooms are on, who the referee is and who is just an interpreter, and so on… And then it's time to head to the next venue, where the opening ceremony will take place. Several tournaments are held there, and the whole thing is designed as one giant Go festival. Before the ceremony begins, some incredible performers put on demonstrations of K-pop ballet, taekwondo, and a drumming show. The best performance I've seen so far. Then we register for the friendly pair go event and wait patiently for it to be organized. Who expected the pairings to be printed out, with everyone finding their partners, opponents and seats at the table? Haha, you naive souls, the Koreans are really pulling your leg here. One poor organizer runs around with a sheet of paper, calling out players by country, and with a bit of luck puts together a foursome that can actually play. Now and then it turns out she is calling someone for nothing, because he is already playing elsewhere. They had registered him several times, just to be safe. In the end everything works out, and by the time the first foursome finishes their game, the last one is even just getting started. It is a bit of a contrast with the brilliant organization at registration on the first day, but we are of course full of tolerance, because Koreans are incredibly kind people, and all it takes to be happy here is a smile. I got knocked out in the first round of the tournament, so I can go out and grab a coffee. On the way, I spot an unbelievable line for Lee Chang-ho (이창호), who is signing papers. He was supposed to be signing fans, but they've run out. And an hour later, when I walk past again, the line is even longer. I feel sorry for the "Stone Buddha," because his hand is really going to hurt today. But this player is simply an absolute legend here, in fact the king of all legends. If you crossed some Korean Jágr with a Korean Masaryk and a Korean Charles IV, he wouldn't even be worthy of standing in the shadow of Lee's kifu. After the games finish, we'll take the bus back home and go to dinner with the Slovak representatives (Ondrejko and Mirela) for Korean barbecue. Then it's home to write the report and say good night. We start playing tomorrow, so keep your fingers crossed for us! The post Korea Prime Minister Cup 2026 appeared first on Goweb.
